❝ The end of life begins when you
drain one from another ❞
Michaela Reid was raised in a household that would be considered anything but normal. From the time her fine motor skills developed, she was taught how to properly grip a dagger and a woode...
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Little light enters through the wooden box, the only crack in the confessional being in the door in front of me. The window beside me stays shut meaning Father Odin isn't on the other side of it yet.
I sit on the wooden bench, tapping my hands on my black jeans where they cover my thighs, waiting impatiently for him to enter. It's that time of the week when I have to confess my killing to him. For some reason, he likes to do this one-on-one and in the confessional booth. I guess it's for keeping track of the killings as much as it is for confessing our sins and saving our souls in the eyes of his Lord.
I huff, blowing a tuft of hair out of my eyes as my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. Having nothing else to do, I pull it out and check what the notification is. Only making the situation worse, the name 'Thomas' takes up space on my lock screen with a small message listed underneath.
Can you speed it up, please?
I roll my eyes, already regretting giving him and Levi my number. I only did so considering the fact I had to leave them alone with Alex while I went home to cover for myself. They didn't have to worry about their alibis so they stayed with him.
Truthfully, I'm not sure why they don't just ditch him and leave. But, they seem like they need my help.
My fingertips tap on the screen as I type out my reply to the bloodsucker.
Well, since you said please... no. I won't be long.
The wooden plank covering the small window slides open, light beams sneaking in from Father Odin's side of the booth. I can see parts of his face through the crossed view, his eyes straight ahead at the door.
"Michaela, how are you tonight?" His voice enters through the small space in between us.
"Fine," I clear my throat, tucking my phone back into the back pocket of my low jeans.
"Do you have any names for me? A low tally is fine, given the short time between our last meeting and now," He gets to the point.
"I've stopped two of them. I only have the name for one of them," I begin, licking my dry lips. My fingernails lightly scratch at my jeans, turning my eyes down to my boots on the floor. "Alex Kilton,"
